


Digging A Hole Called Marriage

by KivaEmber



Series: Wine Cellar [14]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Male!WoL - Freeform, Marriage Proposal, Mildly AUish?, Miqo'te!WoL - Freeform, Misunderstandings, Possibly smut later on, Post-Patch 4.2, Post-Stormblood, Romantic Fluff, Self-Indulgent, WoL just keeps digging himself into a deeper and deeper hole until he succumbs to the inevitable
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-03-24 11:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13810356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber
Summary: This was all Slafborn's fault.Or;How one white lie ends up in a marriage proposal.





	1. The Planning Stage

**Author's Note:**

> This came about because of a prompt from Enxydys who wanted "a tidbit about Aza and Aymeric in Mor Dhona or one of the city states? A sort of "Day in the life of an Adventurer" type thing." Very sorry if this wasn't exactly what you wanted but things just got away from me and now I'm actually writing a multi-chaptered fic about this one thing because... I'm weak. I'm very weak. I'm sorry.

“How about Ampador Keep? You said you needed to grab another glyph for Rowena.”

Aza just heaved a sigh at Crisp’s idle suggestion, not moving from his messy sprawl on the sofa. The astrology chandelier spun lazily above him, casting gentle, twinkling lights over the walls of the FC living room, which he tracked with a disinterested stare.

“Yes, because that’s totally a romantic outing,” he grumbled, “A creepy voidsent infested ruin.”

“Well, we both know Ser Aymeric has bizarre tastes,” Crisp said, not looking up from where she was filing her nails on the loveseat. “He might enjoy it.”

Aza resisted the urge to drag the sofa cushion over his face and smother himself with it, “Crisp, _please_.”

“Alright, alright,” she couldn’t quite hide the amusement in her tone, “If you want to charm and dazzle him with the adventurer’s lifestyle, why not take him to an outing to Mor Dhona?”

“Revenant’s Toll?” Aza frowned, thinking about it. Ishgard frequently sent aid to that adventurer’s hub, with the explicit understanding that Revenant’s Toll would act as a buffer between Ishgard and the encroaching Garlean presence in the somewhat contested area. It wouldn’t take much effort for Aymeric to spin a reason why to visit there with him, and then Aza could give him a nice little sneak peek into the adventurer’s life. Though, the only thing was…

“There’s not much to do there,” he said, “I mean, with the Crystal Tower locked up, there’s nothing interesting. Unless you suggest that we taunt the Imperials for a bit, but Alphinaud might get a bit annoyed about that.”

“My goodness, I forget how dumb you are,” Crisp sighed, “Mor Dhona is old hat to us, but to Ser Aymeric it wouldn’t be. Remember how dazzled he was by visiting Gridania of all places?”

Oh, right.

“Hmm…” Aza sat up, resting his elbows on his knees and linking his fingers together, peering at Crisp over them contemplatively, “So, let’s say I invite the Lord Chancellor to Revenant’s Toll to gain closer ties to the Adventurer Guild, in preparation of opening Ishgard’s gates to the wider adventurer community…”

“And you kindly give him a tour of the outer areas, yes,” Crisp pointed her nail file at him, “ _Away_ from the Castrum, mind. You need to play nice with them until they spring their backstabbing plan at the prisoner’s exchange.”

Aza made a face at her, but conceded that point, “It sounds like it could work.”

“You sound doubtful.”

“Well, it’s just… a bit tame?” Aza said hesitantly, “I was hoping for something more exciting like, oh, I don’t know… another run through Shisui Palace, or whatever.”

“I thought you hated that place?”

“Gods, I loathed it,” Aza muttered, “But it’s pretty to look at, I suppose. Romantic, once you get past the fish smell, and the monsters there were fun to fight.”

Crisp set her nail file down and fixed Aza with an unusually firm look. She did this for several long seconds, long enough to make him squirm uncomfortably.

“What?” he finally asked.

“I think you need to understand that you and Ser Aymeric have very different notions of what is a fun outing,” she said, “Ser Aymeric, bless his foolish little heart, tries very hard to understand and accept you, but he isn’t you.”

“…okay?”

“So, you need to think what _he_ would enjoy, not what _you_ would enjoy,” Crisp finished, “Forget about things being tame, or boring, or easy – think ‘what will Aymeric like’ and then throttle the part of your brain that says ‘and afterwards let’s go pick a fight with that giant cyclops asshole near Whitbrim because that sounds like fun’.”

Aza, who had actually thought this, tried very hard not to react, “But, I mean… it _would_ be fun.”

“No,” Crisp actually picked up her nail file and threw it at him, which he whined about, “No, it won’t be fun. It’ll be terrible and will end in tears. Trust your big sister in this.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, Crisp,” Aza grumbled sullenly, playing with the nail file.

“Then stop acting like one,” Crisp sniffed, “Take him to Mor Dhona. Be embarrassingly sappy and sweet and propose to him in front of the aetheryte. It’ll make Slafborn weep in happiness, which I want to see.”

“I-I am not-!” Aza flustered, instantly turning bright-red, “I’m not gonna propose!”

“Oh? Are you waiting for him to do it?”

“Yes! No, I mean- I don’t know,” Aza squirmed on the sofa, desperately wishing to be anywhere but here for this conversation. The topic had been bandied around mostly in jest, but it was something he tried not to think about too deeply because, well, t-that was… it was way too… “It seems too quick, is all.”

“Hmmm,” Crisp said, studying him intently.

“Really,” Aza fought down the embarrassment, evading her keen stare, “I want to… wait. For a bit. Or- well, it wouldn’t really work anyway, because Aymeric’s the Lord Chancellor and technically nobility and Ishgard probably has a bunch of laws and rules about him eloping with some lowborn Miqo’te anyways and-”

“He probably doesn’t give a damn about all that stuff,” Crisp cut in, “In fact, I can say with absolute certainty he would not give one shit what anyone would think if you were to get down on one knee and propose to him the next time you saw him. He’d just tackle to you to the floor and ravish you senseless.”

Aza actually entertained that fantasy for a few guilty seconds – and very nearly spontaneously combusted when all the blood rushed to his face. It was such a lovely fantasy, but at the same time made him want to curl up into a tight ball and will himself from existence. It was like whenever Aymeric showered him with sweet, romantic compliments. It just… it was almost too much for him to handle.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled to his knees, rubbing at his hot cheeks.

Crisp sighed, but thankfully dropped the subject, “Well, I still say Mor Dhona is the best place to take him. It’s safe, it has nice, pretty surroundings, and you can dazzle him with the local wildlife and crystals, I suppose.”

Aza, eager to move on, just agreed for the sake of agreeing, “Yeah, sure, it sounds… workable.”

But to achieve it, he needed one important ally on his side to give his invitation some official weight, an ally that would turn a blind eye when the pair of them inevitably snuck off to enjoy their romantic outing in peace, an ally who would cover for them if anyone ever asked questions.

An ally called Slafborn.

 

* * *

 

“You want me to do _what_?”

Aza met Slafborn’s flat, unimpressed stare with clasped hands and wide, pleading eyes, the only thing holding him back from shamelessly begging on his knees being the fact that they were in public and a group of adventurers were not so subtly staring from the door of the Rising Stones, openly eavesdropping.

“Slafborn, I will sell my first-born child to you if you do this for me,” Aza said solemnly.

“You’ll never have children.”

“My hypothetical children from an alternative timeline.”

Slafborn exhaled noisily, rubbing a hand over his short hair, “Look, I’m not the adventurer’s guild incarnate. I can’t authorise this by myself and expect no questions as to why Ishgard’s Lord Chancellor is wandering about.”

“Just- just make up something! Like, he’s thinking of opening his gates to adventurers in Ishgard!”

“Is he?” Slafborn asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow.

“Probably! I think? He mentioned something about it last week in bed,” Aza paused to consider this. It was after a rather pleasant, slow night and Aymeric had been happily talking about what policies the House of Lords was ruminating over and Aza had… well, quite frankly he just enjoyed listening to his voice rather than the words, so he may have tuned out after the whole leader exchange programme with Gridania thing, “Maybe.”

“Maybe,” Slafborn rolled his eyes, “I need more than ‘maybe’, Aza, even for you.”

“Hmm…” Aza rocked back on his heels, planting his hands on his hips as he mulled over this new dilemma. He could outright ask Aymeric, but considering Aza didn’t hide the fact that politics just went in one ear and out the other, he may get suspicious about his sudden interest. He could ask Lucia, but that carried the same risks… hmm, maybe Alphinaud…

Aza looked back at Slafborn, expression grim, “What do you need?”

“…are you bribing me.”

“Slafborn, don’t underestimate how far I’ll go,” Aza said, “Seriously, is there a Morbol extermination job people have been putting off? A rogue Behemoth? A Primal in someone’s basement? Smuggling? Chocobo trafficking? _Assassination_?”

“Rowena has been riding my ass about getting more people to do the Anima Weapo-”

“No,” Aza shuddered as terrible, awful, _boring_ memories arose from the days as Anima Guinea Pig. Oh, he loved his Anima weapon, he really did – _but not to the point of ever doing it again_. Even the mere thought of it almost made him break out into hives, “Anything but that.”

Slafborn raised a bushy eyebrow at him, “Then get confirmation on that Ishgard thing. _Then_ we’ll talk about organising your little date.”

“Ngh…” No respect amongst fellow adventurers, honestly. Well then, desperate times called for drastic measures. Aza could feel himself start going red as he brought out the possible trump card, “W-What if I told you it’s… so, um, I could… do something big. In relationships. With. You know. The knee thing.”

Slafborn stared at him for a moment, perplexed, before realisation dawned, “You’re going to _propo-_ ”

“ _SHHHH_!” Aza hissed, waving his hands around like a madman, “D-Don’t go yelling it out!”

Slafborn crossed his arms, frowning down at him as he mulled it over. Aza tried very hard not to burst into flames, his face embarrassingly hot as the stares of his fellow adventurers bore into his back. Hopefully none of them heard that because there were no such things as secrets amongst them. Aymeric would know before Aza even left Revenant’s Toll and then he would have no choice but to move to the bottom of the Ruby Sea for the rest of his life.

“Fine,” Slafborn decided, “But I want an invite.”

“Yes, sure, fine,” Aza rushed out, just eager to leave, “You’re invited. Plus one too.”

Slafborn nodded, then broke out into a smile, clapping Aza on the shoulder, “Good luck. I hope it goes well. Know that we’ll all be rooting for you.”

“Y-Yeah,” Aza stammered, realising that, uh, he might actually _have_ to go through it now. He honestly blurted it out as a way to get Slafborn just to agree to help, but… geeze, he may’ve talked himself into a corner here. It almost made him break out into cold sweat, “Thanks.”

Slafborn just gave him a thumbs-up, mistaking his faintness for reasonable nervousness, then strode away to possibly bullshit the adventurer’s guild on his behalf and tell everyone he met that he was going to attend the Warrior of Light’s wedding in the near future.

Hm. Maybe too drastic, there. 

 

* * *

 

“So,” Alisaie began, having ambushed him outside his room when he popped into the Rising Stones later that evening to work out the logistics of finding a place to sleep with thick enough walls, “I heard you’re finally taking that big step.”

Twelve damn you, Slafborn.

“Big step? What big step?” Aza tried for innocent, but instead sounded highly stressed, wondering if it would be rude to just dive through the door and lock it behind him. Alisaie would probably kick the door down anyway, “I don’t know anything at all about any sort of big steps.”

Alisaie stared at him with the corner of her mouth curled up into a smirk. Aza tried very hard not to blink, planting his hands on his hips in an effort to stop himself from fidgeting. His tail swished anxiously from side to side, something he couldn’t stop.

“So, you don’t have any plans to propose to Ser Aymeric any time soon?” Alisaie asked lightly.

**_Twelve damn you, Slafborn_. **

“Ummmmmm, well…” he drew out, painfully aware that if he denied it, Alisaie might tell Slafborn which meant, no awesome romantic date with Aymeric, but if he said yes, then he was digging himself deeper and deeper into this hole he might as well bury himself in, “I, um, might… uh, perhaps, _potentially-_ ”

“Oh, you don’t have to hide it from me, Aza,” Alisaie sighed impatiently, “I won’t tell him, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Aza sure wished for a world crisis to come crashing through the ceiling right about now.

“I-I don’t think you will,” he blustered, feeling his face start to burn. He really wished he’d stop blushing about this! “I just, um, i-it’s a little…”

“Oh,” Alisaie’s expression softened, “Aza, are you _nervous_?”

Nervously sweating bullets about this house of lies he was building, yes.

He sighed in defeat. Well, he was committed to this now, he supposed, “…yeah.”

Alisaie looked like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with this information, as if struggling to link Aza and Nervous together, before she nodded firmly to herself, “It’ll go fine,” she said, “He would be a fool to say no.”

But what if he did say no? Aza thought abruptly. He never thought about it before, but now that everyone was _making_ him think about it, his stomach did twist itself into a knot thinking about Aymeric potentially declining. Their relationship was in a safe, stable place right now and he didn’t want to do anything crazy that might make Aymeric second guess his decision to stick with him. He was more than aware that he was a source of stress for him sometimes, despite his best attempts to be as low-maintenance and easy as possible. 

“Right, I mean… he’s not obligated to say yes. It’s fine if he says no,” Aza rambled, looking anywhere but at Alisaie.

“Hm,” Alisaie cocked her head, frowning, “…how are you planning on proposing?”

Ah, shit, why did she ask that?

“Um,” Aza was drawing a blank, “By… asking him?

“Out of the blue?” Alisaie’s frown grew more pronounced, “Nothing to lead up to it?”

“Well, I mean, I was gonna… show him around the area. You know, a nice, uh, adventurer thing. He always said he wanted to try being an adventurer so, I do that and then, uh, then… then I guess… I would do that? The proposal? I mean?”

Alisaie stared at him for a very long moment.

“You… have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

Aza instantly deflated, his shoulders slumping, “Not a clue.”

Alisaie closed her eyes, took a breath, and then opened them with an expression of grim determination, “Then it’s fortunate I came to speak with you. Come on, I’m going to salvage this disaster in the making.”

“Uh, wha-”

Alisaie just bullied him forwards though, ignoring his protests, “We are going to have a sit down and plan this out _properly_.”

“But-”

“I can’t believe you were just going to _ask_ him. Do you even _have_ a ring?”

“Um, do I need o-”

“ _Yes_. Gods, Aza. Now _move_.”

“…yes, ma’am.”

 

* * *

 

The situation was getting completely out of control.

“Oh, you should have said earlier,” F’lhaminn said with a kind smile, having happily joined Alisaie’s single-minded mission to craft Aza the Perfect Proposal and was now serving them tea in the thankfully empty bar area of the Rising Stones, “There was no need to try and shoulder it by yourself.”

Aza just sipped his tea in an effort to dodge answering, feeling like his pink cheeks were a new permanent feature he was just going to have to live with. Crisp was going to laugh herself sick when she heard about this, he thought darkly.

“First thing we need to think is when, where and how,” Alisaie said, “Atmosphere is important… as well as the setting. I suppose you’d want it to be privately done?”

“Public proposals can be more pressuring than romantic,” F’lhaminn agreed.

Well, he was well and truly stuck in this hole now… “Yeah,” he sighed, “Private. I, um… will just chicken out if it was public.”

Alisaie tapped her bottom lip in thought, clearly running through all the places a proposal could be done privately. There were a surprisingly a lot of places in Mor Dhona. There was the shore of Silvertear Falls, provided you didn’t find the carcasses of several felled Garlean airships off-putting, then there was Saint Coinach’s Find with its various nooks and crannies amongst the glittering crystals, or the overlooking walls and bridges in Revenant’s Toll itself. It all depended on where they ended up by the end of the night.

“Where do you think is best?” F’lhaminn asked, “You know him better than us. Where do you think he would like?”

Aza thought about it. Crisp’s words from earlier ran through his mind – “think about what he likes, not what you like” – and the answer came to him with surprising ease.

“The shore…” he said slowly, before saying with more certainty, “The shore of Silvertear Falls, just outside the walls, I think. At nighttime.”

Alisaie was staring at him with an unreadable look and F’lhaminn had a wistful, fond smile that made him duck his head, his ears flicking back in embarrassment.

“Sweet,” F’lhaminn sighed, “Yes, I think that would work.”

“Um, yes,” Alisaie looked a little pink as she shook herself out of whatever daydream she had drifted in, though she was smiling, “Now all that remains is how you’re going to do it. You don’t even have a ring.”

“Do I need one?” Aza asked with genuine curiosity. Honestly, he never heard of this rings business before he came to Eorzea.

“Traditionally, yes,” F’lhaminn said, “It’s something strictly adhered to in Ishgard, at the very least. Though, from the sounds of it, Ser Aymeric would understand if you did things differently.”

Aza mulled it over.

“Hmmm… I’ll think about it,” he said slowly, coming to the gradual realisation that his thoughts had shifted from ‘bullshit like my life depends on it’ to ‘genuinely considering this’. His heart was constantly fluttering in his chest and his stomach was all wobbly with nerves, but the more he thought about it…

Well, it was nice to think about, even if it was shadowed by the crippling fear of Aymeric saying ‘no’ or it irreparably damaging their relationship in some way. Was it too fast? Too much? Maybe Aymeric wanted to keep it in this odd limbo of faithful or casual? Then there was the fact that Aza felt like he’d just keel over in a dead faint the moment he tried to carry it out, because he was a fool who was allergic to true romance.

“You have time. When did Slafborn say he’ll arrange it?”

“Uh,” oh, Aza knew he forgot to ask something, “He… didn’t say.”

“I’m sure Aymeric will share the good news of his visiting of Mor Dhona,” Alisaie said dismissively, “The only issue is will there be enough time to get the ring and…”

If it came to it Aza could just pull a favour from his FC. Felyx owed him a few favours after he rescued his Moogle fursuit from the Chocobros, after all. “I’ll have time, if I decide to have it.”

F’lhaminn clapped her hands together, “Let’s forget the ring for now and plan out the day. So, let us expect him to have the entire afternoon and evening with you…”

 

* * *

 

It was planned in extreme detail, and eventually Aza did decide to get the damned ring because at that point, he… well, he actually kind of wanted to do it. He might die during it, but, still, he kind of wanted to see if they could _actually_ be like that. Even if Aymeric said no… he wanted to try.  

But as they say, no plan survives contact with the enemy – and that included marriage proposal plans too, apparently.   


	2. Snags

Aymeric shared the good news when they were in bed a few days later.

“Mm, I forgot to mention,” Aymeric murmured in that adorable, sleepy tone of his, lazily peppering slow, feather-light kisses across Aza’s collarbone, “I’m going to Mor Dhona next week.”

Aza, who at that point had been pleasantly drifting into a light doze, was instantly alert and awake. It took every scrap of willpower not to tense up or do anything otherwise suspicious, and instead made a vague, non-verbal noise as he tried to make his heart settle down from its sudden, mad flutter in his chest.

Aymeric, thankfully, didn’t sense anything amiss. He leaned back, regarding Aza with a heavy-lidded gaze and a small smile that was such a dangerously attractive combination and ensnared Aza’s full attention immediately, “To attend negotiations with the Adventurer’s Guild stationed there,” he continued, his sleepiness slowly being replaced with amusement, “You didn’t know?”

“Um,” Aza blinked a few times, distracted from his admiration of Aymeric’s face, and fought the urge to pull the covers over his head in an attempt to dodge this conversation, “Know what?”

Aymeric made a soft noise that was half a breath away from a chuckle, “Hmm, it’s fine. There’s no need for secrecy. I already know what you’ve planned, Aza.”

…

…

…

Oh Gods, he _did_?!

“You do?” Aza asked dumbly, wondering how on ear- _Slafborn_. He must’ve blabbed to the wrong person and now _Aymeric knew_! Who told him? Why? Oh, goodness, Aza was so not ready to confront this right now, in bed, _naked_. They just had sex! Who proposes just after sex? Actually – that did sound like a nice thing – ambushing someone when their guard was down and- no, _bad_! Aza was the one being ambushed!

“The missive from the Guild seemed to imply that an influential member convinced them to reach out to Ishgard to assist them in furthering Revnant’s Toll construction, now that the majority of the Domans living there have left for their homeland,” Aymeric said, “I assume you pulled some strings to get me over there?”

“Um, yes,” Aza said nervously, his tail agitatedly flicking against his leg – Aymeric seemed a little too relaxed and comfortable considering the topic of conversation, “I pretty much had to get down on my hands and knees and beg Slafborn for help me with it.”

“Hm…” Aymeric looked curious, and his fingers gently stroked over the curve of Aza’s hip, thumb rubbing over the scar that cut over his hipbone, “You didn’t need to do that,” he said, “The House of Lords were already discussing reaching out to Mor Dhona to open our gates to adventurers as a whole. I would have ended up at Revenant’s Toll by the end of the month, duties permitting.”

“Huh?” Wait. _Wait_. “What?”

“I think I told you, mm, two weeks ago?” Aymeric definitely seemed amused now, “Though, you did seem half-asleep when I did, so I assumed it went in one ear and out the other.”

So, what Aymeric thought Aza was hiding…? “I- uh. Oh. I thought…” Aza quickly cut himself off before he gave himself away, feeling very much like he just had a few good years shaved off his lifespan, holy shit, “Well, I guess I half-remembered it. I just wanted to, uh, drag you over there and kidnap you afterwards. You know, just us two having a mini-adventure of sorts.”

“I thought that was the case,” Aymeric chuckled, “Sorry if it was supposed to be a surprise.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Aza sighed, deeply and incredibly _relieved_ that his proposal plans hadn’t just burst into flames, “I guess it was pretty obvious.”

Aymeric’s expression softened, and he tugged lightly at Aza’s hip, coaxing him close enough that his mouth brushed over the line of his jaw in a gentle kiss, “I didn’t intend to ruin your plans,” he murmured, trailing a slow, lazy line from his jawline down along his throat. Aza allowed it with an exhale that loosened the tension in his body.

“Mm,” Aza hummed, curling his fingers into Aymeric’s soft hair, his heartrate relaxing into something a little less frantic, “S’fine. You can make it up to me.”

Aymeric laughed against his shoulder, but he lifted his head and drew him into a deep, warm kiss. Aza melted into it, casting aside his future worries to be fretted over later.

Gods, what a near miss that had been.

 

* * *

 

 

The next snag Aza hit was on the day of the proposal itself.

“Are you _sure_ you brought it in here?” Bluebird drawled, unhelpfully sitting on his chest of drawers and flicking through one of Aza’s romance novels, “You may’ve left it back in the FC or with a retainer.”

“No, I didn’t!” Aza snapped, frantically searching underneath his bed and finding nothing but dust bunnies and old tomestones, “I brought it back here so I wouldn’t forget to bring it!”

Bluebird lowered the book to stare at him.

“Oh Gods,” she started to grin, “Did you do that dumbass thing of ‘I’ll leave it in a safe space for later’ and then _forgot where the safe space was_?”

“No! Yes! I don’t know!” Aza groaned, finally wriggling out from under his bed to flop dramatically on the floor instead, “Oh, fuck, what am I meant to do? I lost the damned ring!”

“Maybe this is the Twelve’s way of telling you not to go through with it,” Bluebird said.

“Shut up,” Aza pushed himself onto his feet, anxiously prowling from one end of the room to the other. It was a mess. His drawers had been pulled out, the armoire practically gutted, pieces of armour and clothing and other weird and wonderful items strewn across the floor in search for the ring he had made for this stressful day. Where the hell did he put it? He definitely remembered bringing it back to the Rising Stones a few days ago…

“Okay, okay,” Bluebird’s tone softened, and she hopped off the dresser and set her book aside, “Aza, c’mon, stop wearing a hole in the floor. It’s gonna be fine.”

Aza stopped and looked at her mournfully.

“Holy shit, you look like I just stabbed your Chocobo,” Bluebird tutted at him, walking over and planting her hands on his shoulders, “Alright, listen, the ring isn’t important. It’s some weird Eorzean custom that I doubt Ser Aymeric’s gonna care about.”

“But what if he does?” Aza asked, his mind already alight with nightmarish scenarios of causing some grievous insult, “It might be some, uh, horrible faux pas or something, not to have one.”

Bluebird shook him, “He’s not gonna care! Aza, Ser Aymeric is so in love with you that I swear he becomes a thousand times dumber the moment he’s in the same room as you. You could give him a fucking _rock_ off the floor and he’d act like it was the most precious thing in the world.”

Aza paused, and opened his mouth-

“No, do not give him a rock, no matter how shiny,” Bluebird cut in, letting go of his shoulders to grab one of his ears instead. He yelped when she mercilessly pulled it, forcing his head to one side, “Listen to your super amazing, smart, intelligent big sister here; just go for it.”

“That’s… not useful advice…” Aza grumbled irritably, rubbing his ear when Bluebird let go.

“Yes, it’s fantastic advice,” Bluebird sniffed, “Look, all this planning and fretting over details, it’s just gonna make you all flustered and panicky when it doesn’t go according to plan. Just think, you’re gonna kidnap Ser Aymeric after his boring meeting with the Guild, you’re both gonna run around having a fun time being idiots, and then when the time feels right, you pop the question, Aymeric says yes, and then you both get all disgustingly sappy and lovey dovey and it’ll scar me for life.”

Aza frowned suspiciously at her, “Why would it scar you…?”

“Because _obviously_ I’m going to stalk you,” Bluebird said, “C’mon, what kind of wingwoman would I be if I didn’t watch from the bushes, waiting to run interference when you eventually fuck up?”

“Why would you need to run inter- no, I don’t care,” Aza lifted a hand to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut in exasperation, “Fuck. Okay. So, no ri-”

“Oh my,” Crisp’s voice drifted over them, “What whirlwind happened here?”

Aza and Bluebird turned to the open door, where Crisp was standing with an expression of droll amusement, one hand on her hip and the other holding up-

“Is that…?” Aza breathed, his ears flicking forwards in full attention, “You _found_ it?”

“You gave it to me a few nights ago,” Crisp sighed, “You were fairly drunk and had some paranoid notion that you’d lose it.”

“…” Aza, slowly, felt his face start to heat up at this, “Oh. I see.”

“Thal’s Balls,” Bluebird snorted, “Aza, you absolute _dumbass_.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, ducking his head into his hands to hide his burning, embarrassed face, “Oh, Gods, how did I forget that?”

“Like I said, you were drunk,” Crisp strode into the room, kicking the door shut behind her, “So drunk, in fact, that you spent, hmm, how long was it? Oh, yes, fifteen minutes rambling how you were going to have a beautiful wedding and a glorious honeymoon and-”

“Stop, please,” Aza whispered into his hands, wishing he’d stayed underneath his bed, “I get it.”

Crisp stopped in front of him, and gently tapped the top of his head, “Chin up, it’s natural to do silly things like this when nervous.”

Aza just groaned, feeling like he was going to die from embarrassment as Bluebird openly laughed at him in that loud, snorting way of hers, “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“Hmm… because it was funny?” Crisp chortled, “I didn’t expect you to rip up your room, though, to be fair.”

Aza dropped his hands, resigned to being red-faced for the next five minutes or so, and looked at the ring in Crisp’s hand. It was a simple band – he had to endure an hour long lecture from Felyx about what was tasteful in an Eorzean engagement ring – and it looked incredibly lovely and- wait, “Where’s the box?”

“Oh, I misplaced that somewhere,” Crisp said, casually tossing the ring up into the air.

Aza made a squawking noise as he hastened to catch it before it fell on the floor, clutching it tight to his chest as he stared, scandalised, at his friend, “Be _careful_!”

“It’s a ring, it’s not going to break from a little fall,” Crisp drawled, looking like she was enjoying this far too much. In fact, _both_ of them were grinning at him like craft couerls, and Aza jutted his bottom lip out in a full-blown pout when he realised the pair of them were ganging up on him – _as usual_. Just because he filled the role of little brother in their pseudo-family arrangement…

“You are both uninvited to the wedding,” Aza declared, carefully slotting the ring into one of the pouches at his belt. He double checked it was closed and attached tight, just in case, “Alisaie can be maid of honour, now.”

“Aw, Aza’s being petty~ how cute~” Bluebird cooed gently, not fazed in the slightest at his threat, “By the way, just out of curiosity, are you… wearing _that_?”

“That?” Aza looked down, confused. He was dressed in his usual armour – well, buffed and polished up, so the worst of the scratches and old bloodstains weren’t as visible, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Bluebird and Crisp shared a look, their expressions grim.

“What you’re wearing… is fine, for day-to-day adventuring,” Crisp began carefully, “But for a special occasion, don’t you think you should wear something that isn’t so, hmm, what’s the word I’m looking for…?”

“Beaten up? Ratty? Stained in the blood of your enemies and not romantic in the slightest?” Bluebird drawled, “C’mon, you got away being an absolute mess when you confessed your love to him, but don’t you think you should make some kind of effort to look nice?”

Aza frowned, quietly affronted. He thought he looked nice – he worked really hard on bringing out the shine on his breastplate and buffing out the shallow scratches. True, it didn’t look _brand new_ and not as nice and formal as Aymeric’s own armour, but it was cleaned and intact. Well, reasonably clean. There was the faint scent of oil and blood lingering but Elezen’s sense of smell was pretty weak, from what he understood, so he thought he could get away with it.

“It’s clean,” he argued grumpily.

“It’s too… adventurer,” Crisp said, “Don’t you have those nice clothes Tataru commissioned for you?”

“It doesn’t have any armour, though.”

“You’re proposing to someone, not marching into battle,” Bluebird groaned, “You could probably kill anything around here butt naked anyway.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Aza dithered, not really comfortable being in a dress state below ‘armed to the teeth’. Anything could happen while he was out and about with Aymeric – _anything_. There was a Castrum not too far from here, and… well, Aza just, wasn’t comfortable without a layer of metal between himself and the world. Aymeric never complained about how much he wore it, so Aza just assumed…

“I want to wear armour,” he said stubbornly.

Crisp just lifted her hands in a sigh, “Well, I suppose Ser Aymeric is used to your quirks at this point.”

“What that man sees in you, I don’t know,” Bluebird muttered, “He must have weird tastes.”

Aza huffed, “Look, if you’re done criticising mine and Aymeric’s life choices…”

Bluebird opened her mouth – to no doubt deliver some smarmy response – when the door opened up and a familiar female voice began; “Aza, I thought I’d warn-”

All three of them turned to stare at Alisaie at the doorway, who in turn stared at the chaotic mess that Aza had turned his room into.

“-you… what happened here?” Alisaie demanded, and Aza pretended that the wall was incredibly fascinating to avoid looking at her.

“Aza thought he lost the ring and ripped the room up looking for it,” Bluebird said cheerily, “He gave it to Crisp a few days ago so he wouldn’t lose it.”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Aza hissed, kicking her in the shin. She yelped and hopped away from him, clutching her leg.

“…right,” Alisaie said, deciding to push past it. Glancing between the three of them with a frown, she refocused on Aza – where her frown became even more severe, “Haven’t you had time to get ready, then?”

“I am ready,” Aza said, puzzled. He had the ring, he was dressed, all he had left to do was wait for the time to kidnap Aymeric.

Alisaie stared at him for a few moments longer, “You’re ready… wearing _that_.”

“Why does everyone say that?” Aza threw up his hands, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Alisaie grimaced, and also shared a look between Bluebird and Crisp. Honestly, Aza was beginning to feel left out, with all these silent stares speaking volumes.

“You look like you’re preparing to complete an adventurer errand,” Alisaie said bluntly, “Not proposing to the love of your life.”

“Aymeric’s not going to care,” Aza said irritably, “He never does.”

“He’s very obtuse,” Crisp told Alisaie like he wasn’t in the room, “He really doesn’t understand the issue.”

Alisaie just sighed, “Didn’t Tataru-”

“It doesn’t have armour!” Gods, Aza felt like he was talking to a brick wall! “Look, this is fine. It’s all fine. It’s _fine_!”

Everyone stared at him as he stood there, fists clenched and ears pinned back, like he was some bizarre creature they fished up out of the lake. He made an irritated noise in the back of his throat, shifting his weight onto his heels as he looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. He felt jittery, like he was prepared to fight something with no enemy in sight.

“Alright,” Crisp finally said, “We’ll stick with the armour. No point in making the situation more stressful.”

Aza just huffed.

“Well, in any case,” Alisaie said after a tense pause, “Ser Aymeric’s here. You have about an hour before you can whisk him away.”

“…okay,” Aza said, forcing out a heavy exhale – and with it, most of his frustration, “Thanks, Alisaie.”

Alisaie gave him a considering look, before offering up a slight smile, “Somehow, I should have expected that it’s not fighting Primals or the like that makes you nervous, but proposing to someone. You’re very emotionally delicate, aren’t you?”

“By the Twelve, I swear…” Aza growled, the three women sharing amused smirks between them, “All three of you are uninvited.”

“You need to find a new threat, you already uninvited me and Crisp,” Bluebird drawled, “We’re immune.”

“I,” Aza began loudly, “Am going for a walk. I don’t have to stay here and be teased like this.”

“Try not to trip into a hole and get trapped,” Crisp called after him, as he proudly stalked out of his own godsdamned bedroom, “It’ll be a shame if you miss your own proposal.”

Aza made sure to childishly slam the door behind him, cutting off Bluebird’s mocking laughter, and he grumbled to himself as he marched off. Honestly, his friends could be such jerks.

But, at least he had the ring and a confirmation of when he could make his move. His stomach flipflopped nervously at the thought, but he breathed through it and told himself that it was going to be fine. Bluebird was right, Aymeric loved him to pieces so of course, it was going to go brilliantly and fine and even if he said no, it was still going to be okay because if he thought otherwise he might actually chicken out and flee to the bottom of the Ruby Sea to live the remainder of his days as a crazy, isolated cat-hermit.

He swallowed thickly, his heart hammering a tattoo against his ribs as he thought of the ordeal ahead. Be strong. You can do this. _You can do this_.

As Aza turned out of the corridor and into the bar area of the Rising Stones, he caught of glimpse of Aymeric, standing near the double doors with Alphinaud and Lucia. He damn near tripped over his own feet to dive back into the corridor he just left, before he was spotted, back pressed against the wall and feeling very much like he just narrowly avoided a blade to the neck.

Aymeric, standing literally only yalms away, was suddenly the most terrifying thing Aza had ever encountered, and a horrible, awful truth bloomed in him.

That he… he…

He groaned and tipped his head forwards, hiding his face behind his hands in open despair.

 _He really couldn’t do this_.

And thus Aza encountered the third snag – his own cowardice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be all from Aymeric's point of view, where the proposal will (possibly???) finally happen! It will also be super long so I might change this to four chapters instead of three, depending on length... or if I add a schmoopy epilogue. 
> 
> Please kudos/comment if you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not an auspicious start.

“Aza, the hell are you doin’ under my counter?”

“I’m…” Aza faltered when he looked up at Rowena’s deeply unimpressed stare, vainly trying to cram himself even further underneath her counter where he was bravely cowering. There was something sharp stabbing him in the thigh, something he valiantly ignored as he successfully wedged his shoulder underneath one of the shelves, “I’m hiding.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Rowena rolled her eyes, and then none-too-gently toed him, like how one would try to shoo an unwanted cat, “Who’re you hidin’ from? Normally you dive into bushes to avoid _me_.”

“I-I don’t!” Aza squawked, wincing when Rowena roughly nudged (kicked) him in the thigh, “ _Ow_! Watch where you’re kicking…!”

“Aren’t you meant to be _proposin’_ to someone?” Rowena continued, kicking him again. He yelped. “Are you chickenin’ out? Because, let me tell you, I have a lotta money ridin’ on you goin’ through thi-” 

“You’re _betting_ on it?” Aza yelled, momentarily abandoning his efforts to squirm away from Rowena’s relentless foot to stare at her incredulously, “With who!?” A beat. “…and for how much?"

“I’m not tellin’ you. You’ll spoil it,” Rowena sniffed, “I’m not gonna let anyone accuse me of fixin’ it. Now, get the hell out from under my counter an’ marry that damned man.”

“No,” Aza hissed, wedging himself in tight and pinning his ears back. He was fairly certain he was stuck anyways, and if Rowena tried to get grabby he wasn’t afraid to bite any unwanted hands in his personal space!

“Ohohohoho~ You don’t scare me,” Rowena sneered down at him and rolled her sleeves back, a gesture Aza eyed with some trepidation, “Get the hell out an’ propose to your man, _right now_ , ‘cause so help me, you make me lose this bet I’ll show you true pain, y’hear?”

Aza narrowed his eyes at her, not budging, “You’re bluffing. You do anything to me and I won’t help you out on your mad weapon schemes anymore.”

Rowena’s smile was predatory, “You’re not the only adventurer I can bribe t’do that stuff.”

Damn it.

“I-I’m your only real source of tomestones,” Aza tried, “And Primal totems. And- and other weird shit!”

“I can get weird shit all the time, you’re not that special,” Rowena planted her hands on her hips, “Last chance. Get out.”

Aza hesitated, wondering if, maybe, there’d be a better hiding place, but no, Alisaie wouldn’t think to find him here, what with his longstanding fear of anything Rowena shaped, so he stubbornly (stupidly) dug in his heels and said, “No.”

“Alright then,” Rowena said, cracking her knuckles, “You asked for it.”

 

* * *

 

“Where _is_ he?” Alisaie muttered, tapping her foot as she checked the chromometer. Aza was supposed to have met her in the Rising Stone’s bar area almost twenty minutes ago, to prepare to whisk Ser Aymeric off. The meeting was scheduled to end in ten minutes, and while she could potentially linkpearl Alphinaud to intrude on the meeting and somehow make it drag out for a little while longer, she _really_ didn’t want to delve to that level.

“If he’s gotten cold feet…” she grumbled. His adventuring companions had warned her that he might do this – it seemed her teasing of him being emotionally delicate was more on the nose than she liked. She supposed that if he did get cold feet, it wouldn’t really… impact anything. Ser Aymeric seemed clueless of the true meaning of Aza’s actions, and whilst he might be put out at Aza being a no show for the after party, he wouldn’t know what he had truly missed out on.

She sighed. In the end, it was Aza’s decision. If he felt he wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t rea-

A sudden commotion from beyond the double doors leading into the adventurer tavern suddenly drew her notice. She frowned, hearing muffled shouting, and curiously drew closer to the doors. It sounded like… was that…?

The doors were thrown open and in marched Rowena, owner of the House of Splendours, dragging Aza in literally by the ear.

Alisaie stared.

“You’re almost as bad as bloody _Gerolt_ ,” Rowena was ranting, pulling Aza along and ignoring his cursing and hissing with impressive aplomb, “Next thing I know you’ll be runnin’ off makin’ bloody kettles or somethin’!”

“ _Arrrrgh_ ,” Aza made an incoherent noise of pained fury, squirming in a way that looked extremely uncomfortable to try and pry at Rowena’s hand. She twisted his ear and he very quickly stopped his attempt with a high-pitched yelp.

“None o’ that!” Rowena snapped, stopping firmly in front of a gaping Alisaie, “Now, you’re gonna stay here with Miss Leveilleur an’ propose t’your man, y’hear? I see you under my counter again an’ we’re gonna have words.”

Aza squinted a watery glare at Rowena, looking highly tempted to thump her. For whatever reason he refrained.

Rowena just sniffed, letting go of his ear with one last tweak. Aza instantly scrambled, and next thing Alisaie knew, the great Warrior of Light, slayer of Primals, was huddled behind her like she was an impenetrable shield, hissing quietly at Rowena with all his fur bristling.

“Right, now that’s sorted, I can catch up on what business I missed ‘cause of your mischief,” Rowena huffed, and without waiting for so much as a demand for an explanation, turned on her heel and marched out. The door slammed behind her with a bang, and Alisaie blinked slowly, trying to understand what she had just witnessed.

Aza was muttering under his breath, his voice oddly thick, “Crazy bitch… can’t believe she _had_ one of those… who even…”

“Aza…” Alisaie said very slowly, turning around to face her friend. He was rubbing at his ear with a sullen pout, and… his eyes were red, like he’d been crying, and he kept sniffling, fingers twitching like he wanted to wipe at his face but knew better. Alisaie’s confusion morphed into alarm; “What… what happened to-”

“She _pepper-sprayed_ me!” Aza huffed thickly – and abruptly sneezed. “Urgh, it’s all up in my _nose_ …”

Alisaie closed her eyes, briefly begging the Twelve for strength. Of all the times for him to have one of his infamous altercations with Rowena…

“We still have ten minutes before Ser Aymeric leaves the meeting,” Alisaie sighed, “So we can… wash it off before he sees you, at least.”

Hopefully. Pepper-spraying a Miqo’te seemed like a bit much, though, even for Rowena. Their sensitive noses meant an already unpleasant experience was amplified by several magnitudes. He’d probably be constantly sneezing for the next hour or so… not exactly fitting into the romance of a proposal. Oh, this was going terribly already.

“Don’t bother, it’s a new thing Rowena got her hands on,” Aza sniffled, blinking rapidly as if to clear his vision, “Water just makes it worse.”

Oh, for goodness…

“What were you even doing, picking fights with Rowena?” Alisaie scolded, pressing a hand to her forehead in open exasperation, “You said you were going for a _walk_.”

“She picked a fight with me,” Aza protested, “I was just minding my own business, sitting under her counter-”

“ _Why were you sitting under her counter?_ ”

“Um, collecting my thoughts…” Aza mumbled to his feet, shifting his weight guiltily before flinching from another violent sneeze.

Alisaie stared at him flatly.

“…you got cold feet, didn’t you,” Alisaie asked.

Aza stared very intently at the floor and didn’t reply.

Alisaie sighed, planting her hands on her hips. Aza was old enough to be her _father_ and she felt like the mature one here. “Aza, if you don’t want to go through with it, you don’t have to.”

“I…” he stopped, then continued uncertainly, “I think I _do_ want to, but… I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?” she asked – perhaps a mite impatiently, but there was a reason why her brother was considered the diplomat between the two of them. She was simply too frank and decisive to gently talk her friend around, “Are you afraid of him saying ‘no’?”

Aza twitched slightly, like he’d been jabbed, before his shoulders slumped, “…yeah.”

“Well, that’s normal,” Alisaie said, frowning. She thought he had this talk already with his adventurer friends, “Fear of rejection is always going to prey on your mind during this. But ask yourself this, do you honestly think he’s going to?”

Aza hesitated, but Alisaie forced herself to wait him out. He already knew the answer, he was just being an idiot at the moment.

“He won’t say no,” Aza said, though he didn’t sound all that certain, “I think. I hope.”

“He won’t say no,” Alisaie said firmly, “And even if he does, then, well, he does. Now,” she continued hurriedly, before Aza dwelt on that negative scenario, “Let’s try to fix the damage Rowena’s done to you before Ser Aymeric sees you.”

Aza wrinkled his nose in open reluctance but didn’t resist when Alisaie grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the dormitory area of the Rising Stones. They may be slightly late at meeting Ser Aymeric but maybe the meeting would overrun anyways. If they were lucky.

But still, not an auspicious start to this proposal, she thought grimly, valiantly ignoring Aza erupting into a sneezing fit. First losing the ring, then picking a fight with Rowena – all before actually _meeting_ Aymeric… oh, she had a terrible, sinking feeling that this proposal was going to end up becoming a disaster.

 

* * *

 

It was about halfway through the meeting that Aymeric actually read the doodle etched into the table.

The lines were faint, and he only noticed it when he’d been idly drumming his fingers on the wood when listening to the adventurer guild’s representative deliver their speech. He had traced them, idly, and it took him a few moments to make out the words – sloppily done, uneven, as if the person had either been half-asleep or extremely drunk;

 _Aza de Borel_.

He’d double-checked, while still trying to pay attention to the meeting, that the etching actually did say that – and it did, complete with a wonky heart around it – and he found himself thoroughly distracted because of it. Aza de Borel. It had… a particular ring to it, and his traitorous, awful mind kept tripping over it, imagining it – because who else would etch this but Aza?

One of his friends, maybe, as a joke, but he would have thought it to be more obvious, more exaggerated, to humiliate or fluster him easier. Aymeric kept tracing the lines, ashamed to admit that he liked the sound of it the more his mind repeated it to him, even if he was forced to put it on the backburner to focus more on the meeting at hand.

Which was already embarrassingly difficult to stay tuned into. When Aza confessed that he arranged this meeting just so they could spend time with each other outside of the trappings of their duties, he had found himself childishly excited about it. It barely counted as an adventure, really, as Mor Dhona, while considered a frontier, was rather tame compared to most places Aza delved into, but, still. He was excited.

It would be a taste of an otherwise impossible dream. Oh, they discussed possibilities of living the life of adventurers together once everything was said and done, but they both knew there was a slim chance of it actually happening. So, for Aza to pull strings and, in his words, ‘get on his hands and knees and beg’ for favours to arrange something like this, well, it made Aymeric’s heart fill full to bursting with fondness.

Aza de Borel… hm, yes, it really did sound lovely. Maybe… maybe, after today, he might-

“So, we hope,” the adventurer representative, a willowy Elezen by the name of Elfinne, said, reluctantly drawing Aymeric away from his thoughts, “That Ishgard might accept our envoy to build a rapport between us. We understand that your government is wary of a massive influx of foreign workers into an already strained economy, but the Adventurer Guild will strictly regulate the flow of adventurers and railroad them into jobs officially sanctioned by the Holy See. A test run can be done with your government’s full approval, and it can be expanded or cancelled at their discretion.”

“Personally, I fully agree with that,” Aymeric said, rapidly boxing up his inappropriate thoughts and stowing them away as he made himself focus fully on the conversation, even though his fingertips still brushed over the etching in the wood, “In fact, it is something that our Houses are currently discussing – in conjunction with that of a potential Grand Company with a similar set up to the other City States.”

Elfinne’s eyes practically lit up at that, “Then, we can expect an agreement soon?”

Aymeric fought to keep his expression entirely neutral. With how the House of Lords stubbornly dug their heels in about the matter, Aymeric was certain they’d be visited by another Umbral Era by the time they came to a decision. The House was split evenly in half over the matter, though from what Aymeric heard the House of Commons was more amenable to the idea, so once it pushed through the Lords… “There are some… conservative elements who still hold concerns,” he said carefully, “But what you’ve said have addressed some of them. This may be enough to sway the remainder.”

Elfinne did not sigh, though it was clearly a close thing, “Ah, of course.”

“However…” Aymeric continued, an idea beginning to form, “Perhaps it would be best if I arranged for you to speak personally at an assembly? Directly challenging- ah, _answering_ , their questions may be the quickest way to resolve this.”

“I would be honoured,” Elfinne said quickly, unable to disguise a brief flash of nervousness. She probably didn’t expect that, which Aymeric found amusing – he liked startling people from time to time, “I’ll have to ask permission from the Adventurer’s Guild, of course, but I can’t see them refusing such an opportunity.”

“Then we have our potential solution,” Aymeric said easily, “Shall we adjourn this meeting until you receive a response from your superiors?”

“Yes, Ser Aymeric, that would be best,” Elfinne smiled, “It should only take me a day at most, but until then, please enjoy Revenant’s Toll. I heard our most capable adventurer has been eager to show you the sights after this meeting.”

Aymeric had to force down his amusement at that. Despite Aza’s attempts at secrecy, his partner really wasn’t as subtle as he hoped. Even if he hadn’t found out beforehand, he would’ve suspected something amiss the moment he stepped foot in Revenant’s Toll, what with so many people dropping hints about how Aza had something big planned for him after his meeting. If Aza wanted to surprise him, he probably shouldn’t have told what appeared to be every adventurer and their chocobo his intentions.

“In which case, it’d be best I don’t keep him waiting,” Aymeric said smoothly, and with that the both of them rose from their seats. He could admit it to himself, he was a little impatient.

Elfinne gave him a respectful nod, “A wonderful discussion, Ser Aymeric. We will continue it tomorrow, at your leisure.”

Aymeric returned the gesture, murmuring a polite farewell as Elfinne left. It was just him in this private meeting room, and he found his gaze dropping down onto the table. The light just about caught the etching in the wood, Aza de Borel, with that wonky heart, and didn’t suppress a smile as he traced it once – then turned away.

It felt like Fate was giving him a pointed nudge – he _had_ been considering it, entertaining the possibility, so, perhaps… perhaps this time, _Aymeric_ would make the first move, instead of waiting for Aza to drunkenly propose to him in public, or something equally impulsive. It would have to be private, of course, so Aza didn’t feel pressured, and… hmm, he really didn’t know much of what sort of culture his partner grew up in, so what proposal etiquette would he be familiar with?

With these thoughts distracting him, Aymeric wandered out of the room to meet up with his partner for the long-awaited date. Maybe it would give him some idea on how to plan it…

 

* * *

 

 “Ow, ow, ow…”

Aza squirmed in discomfort as he stubbornly kept his face in the direct spray of the shower. That _demonic hell spray_ Rowena assaulted him with was pure evil, where no amount of face splashing was enough to permanently wash it off. It got to the point where Alisaie practically frog-marched him into the showers with the reasoning that maybe having a constant amount of hot water spraying directly into his face would be enough to get rid of it.

All Aza could say was: thank _fuck_ for Kojin’s blessing because he would have drowned about now otherwise.

“Is it working?” Alisaie yelled from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Kinda!” he shouted back, leaning back to aggressively rub at his face. It stung unpleasantly, and his nose still had that needle pain like he’d just snorted stinging nettles. But, still, it wasn’t the _burning, searing agony_ that he’d been struggling through only minutes before. By the fucking _Twelve_ he was going to get Rowena back for this. Somehow. Indirectly. From another continent. So she didn’t know it was him.

“Keep trying!” Alisaie said, “I’ll go back and… make an excuse for you! Try to be quick!”

Aza made a loud, incoherent noise of acknowledgement, and he heard Alisaie move away. Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about Aymeric thinking he’d been stood up, though he worried what excuse Alisaie would make. Hopefully she wouldn’t tell him he was pepper-sprayed into submission by Rowena because that would be a humiliating start to the day; yes, one of the greatest warriors to ever live, defeated by a small canister of hell-liquid to the eyes.

He shuddered at the memory, ducking his head under the spray and raking his fingers through his unbound hair. He supposed it worked out, he _did_ forget to take a shower this morning in his nervousness, and with all the running around and getting assaulted he had gotten a little sweaty. Though, he supposed he should change which armour he was wearing, but his other set wasn’t polished to perfection and still had those bloodstains on the breastplate. Not that he thought Aymeric would mind, but, well, he wanted to look his best _and_ be protected, was that too much to ask? Maybe he cou-

_‘crick’_

Aza paused, his ears flicking forwards at the soft, barely there noise. His entire body settled into a state of eerie stillness, his senses focused on… what? He frowned as he strained his hearing, listening for several long moments, but the room was silent past his soft breathing and the noise of running water. That definitely was the noise of a door creaking open but… maybe he imagined it?

He held that thought for about two microseconds before scoffing. Yeah, right.

Slowly, he reached out to the shower curtain, drawing it aside to peek out at the rest of the ablutions. It was a small room, practically a box, only big enough for someone to undress, hang up their towel, and step into a shower – the air was slightly misted from the steam, and the door was slightly ajar, but other than that, it was just him-

Wait. That door was shut earlier.

Aza narrowed his eyes, stinging pain on his face forgotten as he turned off the shower and swept the shower curtain aside fully. He stepped out, grabbing the towel and wrapping it loosely around his hips, just standing in the empty room for a moment. He didn’t _feel_ anything near him, or sensed anything or even _smelled_ anything, though, granted, his nose was still stuffy. His first suspicion had been Bluebird trying to prank him, but… hm, maybe he _was_ just being paranoid.

Brushing it off with a frown, Aza turned to the little wicker box where he stored his armour, flipping it open an-

“What.”

Where.

_Where the fuck was his armour?_

Aza stared blankly into the empty basket, remembered Bluebird and Crisp’s disdainful looks at his armour, of ‘ _you’re seriously going to propose in_ that _’_ and very forcibly bit down a curse. No, they wouldn’t do that to him… would they? Was this a giant conspiracy? Had they roped Rowena into pepper-spraying him so h- no, actually, that was a stupid theory. He hid in Rowena’s shop on a panicked whim… unless they _knew_ he’d do that, which was why they teased him so much- but, no, how would they predict he’d start getting scared and-

 _Arrrrrrgh_!

Dropping the lid of the wicker basket Aza straightened up, curling his fingers into his wet hair in open frustration. What was _with_ today? How was he going to meet Aymeric if he had _no fucking clothes_? Well- he had some but- oh, he really didn’t want to walk through the corridors in nothing but a _towel_. He felt like his tail was rubbed the wrong way just thinking about it. So exposed and… vulnerable. Urgh. Ugh. _Ugh_.

“I’m going to fucking _kill you_ , Bluebird,” he vowed under his breath, squaring his shoulders and forcing himself to walk out of the ablutions. Luckily, they were pretty close to the bedrooms, so he didn’t have to walk far to his own personal room. He was tense the whole time, though, having the bizarre, invasive thought that someone was going to leap out from behind a corner and stab him in the kidneys. Thankfully no stabbings happened in his journey.

In fact, he met no one at all.

His journey was utterly uneventful, if a bit chilly, and he sighed in relief when he reached his room. He threw the door open, strode in and-

“Hello, little brother,” Bluebird purred at him from where she was sitting primly on the edge of his bed, clutching his stuffed Chocobo doll in her lap and stroking it like it was a pet.

“Where the fuck is my armour?” Aza demanded, not in the mood to deal with her pranks right now. She _knew_ how important this day was, and she was messing it up because she disagreed with his fashion choice? Oh, he was definitely putting millipedes down her underwear for this!

“Somewhere safe,” Bluebird told him, utterly unfazed by his annoyance, “But out of reach for the next few days. You need to wear somethin’ nice.”

“Thal _fuck me_ , Bluebird, I _do not_ have time for this!” Aza finally exploded, stressed beyond belief. He couldn’t believe he was dealing with this _naked_ right now, “I was supposed to meet Aymeric _five minutes ago_ and you’ve _stolen my clothes_! Give them back!”

Bluebird set aside the Chocobo doll and stood up, pointing at the bed. There, a spread of clothes were laid out – actual _clothes_. Sleek, black, form-fitting and leaving nothing to the imagination – with not a vambrace or breastplate in sight. It was an outfit put together for allure and seduction rather than protection, and Aza made a high-pitched noise of disbelief.

“I’m not wearing that!” he protested, “It doesn’t even have a breastplate!”

“Then, I guess you’re proposin’ to him naked,” Bluebird said, entirely unmoved, “Unless you don’t wanna make the effort for him?”

“I am _not-_ ” He stopped. Took a _deep breath_. Let it out slow. Okay. “Bluebird, if you ever loved me, you’ll tell me where my armour is.”

Bluebird just stared at him, her mouth beginning to curve into a devilish smile, “No _pe_.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ _destroy you_ ,” Aza snarled, marching forwards with violent purpose. He’ll shake her upside down until she told him, damn it, “You little-“

Bluebird’s hand blurred over her belt, and with a yelp he lunged forwards, intending to stop-

She threw the smoke bomb down, the little _fuck_.

“Bluebird, you _cock_!” Aza howled, blinded and coughing from the acrid smoke. It didn’t take long to clear, but when it did, he realised with horrified dread that both Bluebird _and_ the clothes on the bed were gone. She literally left him with _nothing_ but a towel. She couldn’t have gone far, though, and Aza knew her aether well enough that he could _hunt her to the ends of the earth._

“ _BLUEBIIIIIIIIIIIIIRD_!” he shrieked with unadulterated fury, tearing out of his room with his towel running dangerously low on his hips, catching sight of her scaly tail flicking around the corner at the far end of the corridor, “GET BACK HERE!”

Loud, mocking laughter was his reply, and Aza very nearly slipped as he charged around the corner, only just managing to catch his balance in time to see Bluebird flying out of the doors at the end of the hallway – to the Bar Area.

If Aza had been less frazzled and angry, he would’ve hesitated. But he didn’t. He bolted after his _asshole friend_ without a care of where he was going, determined to tackle Bluebird to the ground and pull her tail until she begged for forgiveness. He charged right out of those double doors an-

Right into Bluebird, who had skidded to an abrupt halt.

Clothes went flying, and so did his towel, and the pair of them crashed to the floor with yelps of surprise on both sides… right at Aymeric’s feet.

Alisaie’s premonition was right: this proposal was a disaster before it even started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DEEPLY SORRY FOR HOW DELAYED THIS CHAPTER WAS. I rewrote it like ten thousand times before I was happy, and as you can see the chapter count got bigger because I've finally decided chapter 4 is when the question is popped and chapter 5 will be epilogue/sex. RL is starting to grind on me a bit too so you may see these coming out a little slower, so sorry! 
> 
> Please kudos/comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> BONUS, because I love this meme: 
> 
> Aza: From now on, we'll be using codenames. You can all address me as Eagle One. Haurchefant, code name is - Been There, Done That, Aymeric is - Currently Doing That, Hien is - It Happened Once In A Dream, Y'Shtola is - If I Had To Pick A Dudette and Alphinaud is... Eagle Two.   
> Alphinaud: Oh thank the Twelve.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again thank you all for your lovely comments and love for this series! I hope you enjoy this cute little multi-chaptered fic, it's going to be very self-indulgent and fluffy with potentially shamelessly raunchy porn at the end. I'm always open to prompts because it always helps to inspire me like this!
> 
> Please comment/kudos if you liked!


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